


? lucky we r to be alive rn

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Queer Character of Color, Coffee Shops, Falling In Love, Gen, Non-Human Genitalia, POV Nonhuman, Queer Gen, Queerplatonic Relationships, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:09:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7771459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Laurens, student at Princeton University in New Jersey, is a complete coffee addict. He visits the Starbucks near the quad every single day. Junior year, he meets someone unlike anyone he's ever encountered before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	? lucky we r to be alive rn

Henry was wiping the counter in front of the espresso machine when the bell indicating that a person needed service dinged. He looked around, but his coworkers were nowhere to be found. They were probably smoking the drugs out back, he decided, or maybe they were cuddling in the break room. They all really liked to cuddle and wear one another's lipstick. Henry couldn't wear lipstick, because he had no lips.

He shuffled his way over to the register where a super cute boy with a lot of freckles was standing. He looked impatient and fiesty, like he was in a hurry. He was wearing a Princeton University sweatshirt and scowling at his phone. Henry hated register duty because it always took him forever to ring up the customers.

"Welcome to Starbucks," he said, "can I take your order?"

The cute boy with the freckles looked up from his phone which he was using to text with someone. A different boy that was able to operate a cash register, thought Henry, glumly. He forced himself to smile, but it wavered when the boy looked up and took half a step back in fright.

"Goddamn it!" he shouted, and dropped his phone. Henry peered over the edge of the counter at the boy and asked, "Are you okay?"

"I am fine!" he snapped back, and Henry felt his heart race. He was the one who was supposed to be doing the snapping. "Sorry," said the boy with the phone and the freckles, handing over a credit card. Henry took it in his clawlike hand and said, kindly, "You haven't ordered yet?"

"Oh," he said. Henry looked down at the credit card. It was a black AmEx, which meant he had a lot of money. His heart swelled up. Maybe this person, whose name, he saw, was John Laurens, was looking for a special friend who he would take out to nice dinners at the country club, and sailing. Rich people were always going sailing.

"John," said the turtle Henry, "You have to order something."

John started at that. "How did you know my name?" he accused angrily. Henry was hurt by this tone and pointed at the AmEx. "It's right here," he said, "now what're you having? I recommend the salted caramel Frappuccino."

"Gross," said John. "No thanks. I'll take a blonde roast and a bagel, toasted."

"Great choices," said Henry, and rang up the order. He tried to draw a heart on the paper cup but his pawclaws were very clumsy and it looked like a stop sign instead. He burned his arm on the toaster, too, and shouted in pain. When he brought John the bagel in its little paper bag, his arm was smarting.

"Hey," said John, as Henry swiped his credit card. "Can I text you some time? You seem really cool, and like the kind of -- like someone I'd like to get to know better." 

The credit card was declined. Henry was unsure of what to do. He thought John was very handsome, if kind of weird looking around the eyes. But then again, he reasoned, there were people who thought he was weird looking too. They might make a very nice couple.

He passed the card back and said, "It's on the house. And you have to email me. I can't text." Then he gave John his email address.

"Cool," said John, and smiled. Henry thought his heart might explode from the feelings he was having. There was a Halsey song playing while John walked out the door of the Starbucks, his beautiful curly brown hair flapping behind him.

Henry went back to cleaning the espresso machine, but this time he was smiling.


End file.
